"I think it's this way. I saw one of them walk this way a few seconds ago," Phichit was saying, while dragging Yuri off with him, Victor's voice raising in a warm, but short, wave behind him. A word he didn't know, but a tone he knew all too well. Celebratory, even in Russian. Maybe he'd ask later what it was, exactly. If he remembered to a--
"Wait!" Yuri almost stumbled straight into his friend, eyes wide, looking at a set of large columns, almost like statues, covered in large, but delicately carved and golden painted, Magnolias. The ones all over Shanghai, like the squids and wisteria back home. "This is perfect." He threw Yuri a smile, classic and begging to be infectious. "We need a picture for tonight anyway, right?"
Yuri was still trying to regain his feet, but he knew better than to argue with this one. A picture cost him nothing. Especially not when it was Phichit who somehow managed to make all of his pictures look perfect. Magically perfect. He didn't fight the arm that looped his shoulders (even if it felt strange to be leaning down a few inches instead of up them now), and leaned his head in.
"Can I help?" A man announced himself, in broken English, even as Phichit said, "One second!", framing and snapping mid-those words.
A little too fast for Yuri, who ended up caught on the image just looking back to the camera, smile faltered by distraction. Not that Phichit seemed to have minded, as he was calling it perfect and saying he needed to upload this right now, which left Yuri to step over to the man, hands making a circle as though on habit. "We need a few more plates."
The look of comprehension didn't seem to dawn, and Yuri dug out his own phone, looking for one of the handful of apps he'd picked up earlier during the week. Searching for the word in English, tapping the picture and enlarging it, with its manadrin word under it. Turning so the picture faced the man, and raising a hand. Looking at it, thinking, "We need--
At least three or four now, right? Except that Phichit had invited one more, and that one had invited one more, and what it that last person did, too? He uncurled his thumb "Five?"
"Shì, shì. We get them right to you." He walked off briskly in the opposite direction, vanishing around a corner.
"Look! It's already getting liked!" Phichit had reappeared at his side and he was sliding the phone in front of Yuri's face, with their faced, smiling, and his own caught in the middle of what looks like distracted surprise. Even so, with his name, and the hashtag, for both of them, Shanghai, and the restaurant, it was already flashing hearts on his screen.
"Yeah," Yuri said, not absolutely loving it, but grateful enough it wasn't terrible. Phichit's never were. It could be left at that, as Yuri turned and started taking them back through the network of little hot pot cubicle spaces, with all their designed walls and nice tables, most of them full.
"You still haven't said--" This with a nudge against his arms, right below his shoulder, that caused Yuri to look down with a quizzical confusion at the unclarified topic of this sudden, almost hush-hush shift to Phichit's voice. The kind of conspicuous not-quite-whisper he used when making plans on the ice, while he should have been practicing.
His eyebrows went a little more up, as though obviously, this should be obvious. Slowing their steps back. Then a little higher, which only made it more necessary to ask, "Haven't said ... ?" and leave it hanging as a question.
Put out a little for having to put it into words, Phichit none the less lost now of his surreptitiousness, nor the garnered friendly interest behind it, saying at the same volume, "How it is working out with Victor. As your coach."
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"Wait!" Yuri almost stumbled straight into his friend, eyes wide, looking at a set of large columns, almost like statues, covered in large, but delicately carved and golden painted, Magnolias. The ones all over Shanghai, like the squids and wisteria back home. "This is perfect." He threw Yuri a smile, classic and begging to be infectious. "We need a picture for tonight anyway, right?"
Yuri was still trying to regain his feet, but he knew better than to argue with this one. A picture cost him nothing. Especially not when it was Phichit who somehow managed to make all of his pictures look perfect. Magically perfect. He didn't fight the arm that looped his shoulders (even if it felt strange to be leaning down a few inches instead of up them now), and leaned his head in.
"Can I help?" A man announced himself, in broken English,
even as Phichit said, "One second!", framing and snapping mid-those words.
A little too fast for Yuri, who ended up caught on the image just looking back to the camera, smile faltered by distraction. Not that Phichit seemed to have minded, as he was calling it perfect and saying he needed to upload this right now, which left Yuri to step over to the man, hands making a circle as though on habit. "We need a few more plates."
The look of comprehension didn't seem to dawn, and Yuri dug out his own phone, looking for one of the handful of apps he'd picked up earlier during the week. Searching for the word in English, tapping the picture and enlarging it, with its manadrin word under it. Turning so the picture faced the man, and raising a hand. Looking at it, thinking, "We need--
At least three or four now, right? Except that Phichit had invited one more, and that one had invited one more, and what it that last person did, too? He uncurled his thumb "Five?"
"Shì, shì. We get them right to you." He walked off briskly in the opposite direction, vanishing around a corner.
"Look! It's already getting liked!" Phichit had reappeared at his side and he was sliding the phone in front of Yuri's face, with their faced, smiling, and his own caught in the middle of what looks like distracted surprise. Even so, with his name, and the hashtag, for both of them, Shanghai, and the restaurant, it was already flashing hearts on his screen.
"Yeah," Yuri said, not absolutely loving it, but grateful enough it wasn't terrible. Phichit's never were. It could be left at that, as Yuri turned and started taking them back through the network of little hot pot cubicle spaces, with all their designed walls and nice tables, most of them full.
"You still haven't said--" This with a nudge against his arms, right below his shoulder, that caused Yuri to look down with a quizzical confusion at the unclarified topic of this sudden, almost hush-hush shift to Phichit's voice. The kind of conspicuous not-quite-whisper he used when making plans on the ice, while he should have been practicing.
His eyebrows went a little more up, as though obviously, this should be obvious. Slowing their steps back.
Then a little higher, which only made it more necessary to ask, "Haven't said ... ?" and leave it hanging as a question.
Put out a little for having to put it into words, Phichit none the less lost now of his surreptitiousness, nor the garnered friendly interest behind it, saying at the same volume, "How it is working out with Victor. As your coach."